


waidmanns heil

by platonics



Series: himikiyo week 2020 [7]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Battle Royale (Koushun Takami) AU, Hiding, Himikiyo Week 2020, Introspection, Minor Character Death, Moral Ambiguity, Murder, Nonbinary Shinguji Korekiyo, Other, Protectiveness, she has no lines, tenko is there but literally just to die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27989202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonics/pseuds/platonics
Summary: The screaming finally stopped.In the Republic of Greater East Asia, Korekiyo and Himiko find themselves taking part in the Program. Battle Royale AU.
Relationships: Shinguji Korekiyo/Yumeno Himiko
Series: himikiyo week 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040634
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4
Collections: himikiyo week





	waidmanns heil

**Author's Note:**

> himikiyo week day 7: free day
> 
> battle royale au (the novel by koushun takami), because why not put them in a different killing game? i did take some small liberties with the setting, however. the program encompasses everyone in their year at their school, not just the v3 class themselves, and also, the program takes place in high school (17-ish) instead of junior high. a pair is permitted to win within the rules. aside from those 3 things, the program is set up as it is in the book, but you don't need to be familiar with the details of it to enjoy the fic!

The screaming finally stopped.

It was a relief to be freed from such awful sounds. Labeling them as mere screams seemed to undersell the whole thing, really. The gurgles, the thunks of weapon hitting flesh, the ragged, heavy breathing. It all came together to form a violent cacophony that seemed impossible to block out, even on the other side of the wall.

Himiko had been sitting there on the floor, knees drawn up to her chest. She could have made herself more comfortable, made use of the furniture, but she didn’t dare. Even with all the blinds drawn, she was afraid of being seen through the window. Better to stay low when she could help it. It was strange how in the space of just a few days, being seen had become one of her biggest fears.

The cottage door opened with a creak. There was a single exception to her desire not to be perceived.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly, only once the door had closed again. There could still be others nearby.

“Yes,” they said. The cadence of their voice was as calming as ever. They barely even seemed out of breath. “You needn’t worry about me. A few minor scrapes and bruises perhaps, but nothing serious. I’ve endured far worse before.”

Korekiyo lifted a hand to tug their mask down and show her the warm, sweet smile that adorned their features. Expressions so soft were always for her eyes only. From her position in the corner, still hugging her knees to her chest, she couldn’t help but smile back in gratitude. Their lipstick was still flawless too, as was the nail polish on those fingers gripping the edge of their mask. Their other hand was down at their side, holding a sickle. Blood dripped sluggishly from the blade, spattering on the floor.

They were one step closer to winning the Program.

“Who?” she asked, using up all her effort just to say that one word. She didn’t know if she wanted to hear the answer, but maybe that blood belonged to a stranger, someone from one of the other classes in their year. And if it wasn’t, she wouldn’t be able to stay oblivious to the truth forever. The names of the dead were read off several times a day, along with the new forbidden zones. If it was someone she cared about, she’d know they were gone soon enough. Did it make a difference who killed them?

Kiyo must have thought it did, because they looked away from her. Their gaze dropped down to their combat boots, stained with dirt and blood.

“Chabashira.”

“Oh.” Himiko looked down at the floor too when they said that, her stomach twisting uncomfortably. She hadn’t recognized the screams. Somehow she felt as if she should have.

“I’m sorry,” Kiyo said hesitantly, wiping off the sickle on the window curtains. Nobody was very motivated to care about the property of whoever lived on this island, not when the bigger concern was staying alive. The homeowners would be reimbursed for their troubles. Who cared if they had to replace a few things?

“No, it’s fine. You did what you had to do.” She tried to make her heart hard and remind herself of the end goal of all this. The two of them out in the world together again, able to heal and move on from all this. To do that, everyone else had to die, whether by their hands or someone else’s. Himiko cared about all her classmates, but no one could come close to Korekiyo on her list of priorities. Her love, her Kiyo-chan, the one she was always beside. 

She didn’t even like Tenko that much. She hated her pushiness, the way she never let her forget about her crush even after several rejections. For some reason, her eyes stung anyway.

“I’m still sorry.” Sickle tucked in their belt now, they moved closer, drawing her in to their chest in a warm embrace. “You don’t deserve to be caught up in all this.”

“Neither do you,” she said. They didn’t answer. Probably thinking about how they killed too easily to be innocent. They just cradled her awhile longer, pulling back only enough to press kisses all over her face. Even in that moment of affection, they were both listening for sounds outside. Things were quiet, but that could change in an instant. They couldn’t afford to be caught off guard.

“How about I make curry for dinner, hm? Then we can plan our next moves.” More forbidden zones would be announced at 6:00 PM, just an hour away. Hopefully their little shelter would remain safe, but it was good to plan anyway.

“Do you think it’s okay to cook?” They hadn’t so far, subsisting only on the meager rations in the backpacks they were given.

Kiyo shrugged, glancing around. “I don’t see how it would draw attention any more than being here and not cooking. And the food is here, so why not? We’ll barricade the door. Just stay close to me.”

Staying close to them was never a burden.

Cooking and eating dinner went smoothly, thankfully. She knew it couldn’t last though. Sipping the last of their tea, the two of them sat on the floor, maps spread out between them. When the announcement came on, they marked off the new forbidden zones together, silently checking each other’s work. 

When Chabashira Tenko was included in the list of the dead, Himiko didn’t flinch, her palm sweaty against Kiyo’s thigh. 

The numbers kept going down. Only about fifteen left alive now, by her count. Fewer and fewer competitors. Fewer people standing between them and going home. They would escape the Program. They’d go home, wash off the blood and grime in Kiyo’s luxurious bathroom, grateful to their wealthy, absent parents for once. They’d be forgotten, safe and anonymous.

When it was time to leave the cottage, they took her out the back door, so she wouldn’t see Tenko’s body out front. The kama was in their hand again, rust-colored flecks still marring the blade. 

The boy slinking through the weeds towards them didn’t have a chance to reach for his gun. Kiyo’s aim was always true.

Fourteen remained.


End file.
